Where I am from I am from a small world of being scared I am from a cage with a few toys, a frightened mother and an abusive man I am from the wanting to see sunlight beyond the window in my bedroom I am from a tiny beat up trailer on top of the hill I am from a place where cries mean the man is hurting her I am from the sound of being told I’ll never make it I am from the loud but unheard cries for help I am from the smell of wood and rusty cars just beyond my “back yard” I am from the smell of burnt food I am from the homemade cookies and fudge at grandmas at Christmas I am from the wanting to smell fresh air I am from the copper taste of blood from the cut on my lip because the slipper missed the dog I am from the rancid taste of being rejected as a child I am from wanting to taste freedom outside of school I am from the feel of the door knob opening the gate to… beyond the door I am from the feeling of loneliness; the door to freedom is one call away to freedom. I am from the feeling of finally being heard, being taken away to a place where I don’t have to hear the cries of a mother in pain. I am from being taken to a home that gave me nightmares, because I was scared to leave her alone. I am from starting new I am from never having to feel my mother’s tears on my cheek, or the bumps underneath her soft blonde hair Finally I am from being free, free to grow up, free to be me!
I am from a small world of being scared
I am from a cage with a few toys, a frightened mother and an abusive man
I am from the wanting to see sunlight beyond the window in my bedroom
I am from a tiny beat up trailer on top of the hill
I am from a place where cries mean the man is hurting her
I am from the sound of being told I’ll never make it
I am from the loud but unheard cries for help
I am from the smell of wood and rusty cars just beyond my “back yard”
I am from the smell of burnt food
I am from the homemade cookies and fudge at grandmas at Christmas
I am from the wanting to smell fresh air
I am from the copper taste of blood from the cut on my lip because the slipper missed the dog
I am from the rancid taste of being rejected as a child
I am from wanting to taste freedom outside of school
I am from the feel of the door knob opening the gate to… beyond the door
I am from the feeling of loneliness; the door to freedom is one call away to freedom.
I am from the feeling of finally being heard, being taken away to a place where I don’t have to hear the cries of a mother in pain. I am from being taken to a home that gave me nightmares, because I was scared to leave her alone.
I am from starting new
I am from never having to feel my mother’s tears on my cheek, or the bumps underneath her soft blonde hair
Finally I am from being free, free to grow up, free to be me!